JH (January 4,1931 / a citizen of the world)

After The First Death*

Amidst the rubble and confusion
a child's hand clutching a toy.

Near by

The hand's arm twisted grotesquely
around a dead young woman.

Was it the hand's mother
to which the infant body clung?

Sans hands, sans eyes, sans-

You did your job smart bomb but,
after the first death there is no other.


(In memoriam the children of Gaza/* Grateful thanks to Dylan Thomas)

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes ) 19

Other poems of HUGHES (211)

Comments (19)

Touching piece of work.Gaza took such a terrible assault we can all understand where you're coming from.
wars and rumors of war should never happen. the innocent are the losers. good write
Hauntingly stirring, Mr. Hughes. Words to provoke confusion and revenge, yet calm our inner anger... How unfortunate that violence forces these memories upon us.
sir your poem shook me from within.. and could not stop myself from hailing curses on these perpetrators of this ghastly crime... 10+++ certainly.. regards prashant
Cruelity creamates the body but not the soul. Written in great synpathy for the innocent deaths. CP
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